Lofthus still taking the road that needs action

There was a time when Ort Lofthus seemed to be part of every worthwhile civic cause that came along, whether delivering Lions Club Christmas boxes to people in need or fighting the state to complete the Crosstown Freeway.

There was a time when Ort Lofthus seemed to be part of every worthwhile civic cause that came along, whether delivering Lions Club Christmas boxes to people in need or fighting the state to complete the Crosstown Freeway.

At 85, Lofthus isn't involved in quite as many endeavors, but just as his handsome face bears no wrinkles or signs of aging, his enthusiasm and willingness show no signs of slowing down.

Humphreys College will honor him next month by inducting him into its Law School Hall of Fame for his contribution to its success. As a member of the board of directors for 44 years, he helped the school gain California State Bar accreditation.

"He was instrumental in getting prominent people in the community to go to the law school or send their children to the law school," said Bob Humphreys Sr., president of the college. "One of his main contributions is as a public community supporter, ... getting the name and reputation of the law school out there."

Humphreys College isn't the only entity that still enjoys Lofthus' involvement. When the Stockton Host Lions club celebrates its 90th anniversary in two weeks, it will surely acknowledge its seniormost member and past president.

His membership began in 1953, the year Lofthus moved his family to Stockton.

He'd been charged with turning around the fortunes of a radio station his brother-in-law, Joe Gamble, had bought.

"It was KXOB and was sometimes called K-S.O.B.," Lofthus said. "It was not a good station. We changed it to KJOY, and people called it Kill Joy. We couldn't win."

Actually, he could.

Gamble decided on a rock 'n' roll format, but Lofthus made it more. He understood the value of local news - a holdover from his newspaper days at the University of Washington, from which he graduated in 1949 with a journalism degree, and reporting jobs at weekly papers in Washington - and made it part of the station.

"I had a great staff," Lofthus said. "We were community-minded. We had good newspeople and were great participants in community affairs."

Getting involved in the community was easy for Lofthus.

"That was my nature," he said. "There was a need for ingratiating the station into the community, but there was also my total enjoyment of it."

He shudders to think he was perceived as someone who injected himself into every group out there, though.

"That sounds like Mr. Gladhander, who has to belong to everything," Lofthus said. "I never went to join anything. I would be asked."

He never said no, a practice that resulted in Lofthus' being named Outstanding Young Man of the Year in 1959 and Mr. Stockton in 1969. Of all his accomplishments, he's particularly proud of co-founding Hospice of San Joaquin and serving as president of the Boys Club when the clubhouse on Olympic Circle in south Stockton was built, along with starting the Lions' scholarship program and his continued tenure on the Humphreys board.

Ort Lofthus is much more than a past president or the name on the Crosstown Freeway, though.

He is, first and foremost, a family man. He and his wife of 61 years, Sylvia, have four children, eight grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

A noted practical joker, Lofthus also is a gifted storyteller who can reduce a listener to tears of laughter.

The Minnesota-born, Wisconsin-bred Lofthus was drafted and assigned by the Navy as a tail gunner and radio operator. He trained in Rhode Island and lined up with his partner, the turret gunner, and 17 other teams one cold morning to await the arrival of the pilots to whom the teams had been assigned.

"One by one, the planes come in, and two men run out, salute the pilot, climb in, and off they'd fly," Lofthus said.

Then his name and that of his partner were called to join the next pilot.

"He comes and he realizes he's so high in the air, he'll never get down to land where he's supposed to," Lofthus said. "He slams down so hard into the ground to stop, the plane goes totally end over end, upside down. He's hanging there with the straps holding him in, and gasoline is pouring out of the wings. We all broke ranks and pulled him out.

"That's our pilot for the next few years? This is the guy we're going to invade Japan with?"

The pilot, nicknamed The Red Baron by Lofthus, because he always wore a long red scarf, ruined two other planes during training.

"We'd go out on runs, and he'd call the carrier and say, 'I'm lost,' and planes would go on search patrol for him," Lofthus recalled.

Needless to say, no one was more relieved than Lofthus to hear the news of Japan's surrender just as the ship bearing him to join the invasion force had passed through the Golden Gate.

He was discharged six months later and enrolled at the University of Washington. While there he met Sylvia, a Seattle native, and the couple married hours after he'd received his diploma in 1949.

He worked at weekly newspapers before his brother-in-law hired him to sell advertising for his radio station in Palm Desert, then sent him to manage the station in Stockton.

Once here, he lent a hand to one cause after another, but his most enduring legacy, particularly to current residents, is as the driving force behind improving county highways.

Although the Crosstown Freeway bears his name, he first fought to have Interstate 5 completed in San Joaquin County.

The road that runs from Mexico to Canada through California, Oregon and Washington was complete except for the 24-mile stretch of San Joaquin and Sacramento counties from Lodi to Elk Grove.

Gov. Jerry Brown froze all highway funds in favor of creating an effective mass transit system, but Lofthus spearheaded a grass-roots organization that pestered state leaders until Interstate 5 was completed.

Rather than share the stage at the 1979 grand opening of the completed highway with those same officials he'd battled, Lofthus celebrated the moment in another way.

"I hired an airplane and had it fly over with a banner that said, 'Now finish the Stockton Crosstown,' " he said.

Years of fighting for the road that links Highway 99 and Interstate 5 culminated with the road's completion - and being named for him - in 1993.

He wasn't finished, though.

He put together a group in 2005 that got Interstate 205 through Tracy widened, and he recently took aim at Highway 12. He was convinced every effort is being made to make that road safer and didn't move forward.

Not to worry. He's sure to find some other venture to which to lend his support. The good ones always do.